sifting through years of collage material, things i have folded up and held on to for years. when i open the large shallow box that contains them i feel simultaneously soothed and disturbed by my nostalgia. i keep a list of every address i’ve ever lived at. pastel commuter rail tickets to fitchburg. hurtful notes from ex-lovers. beautiful paper i’ve assigned meaning to. they fill a box i could never part with.
but using them is something different. it’s not keeping them or letting them go. it’s putting them in a place more visible to you, or less visible to me. eight years ago i worked on a similar project with a best friend, a mobile strung with nostalgia. beads, scraps and charms from jewelry boxes collected together and bound with thread. hanging them up helped put them away, or put them to use.
art book club’s collaborative art works are some of my favorite. this time we decided to make a book of it, but instead of chronological pages, we chose to create on every page anywhere we please. i just received the book for the first time and i’m looking forward to adding my part. a favorite page of mine: